Jack and Jill
by Indigo X
Summary: Wheehoo! Samurai Jack 'fic #2 for this site! I'm special! *snickers* Jack comes across the high-spirited leader of a resistance group that Aku is trying desperately to destroy- will he continue on his journey home, or has he found his place in the future?


Jack and Jill  
An Indigo X Samurai Jack 'fic  
  
Part One: The girl in the scrapyard  
  
In a snow-covered field on a clear evening, a lone figure in white trudged silently forward. His feet were bare save for a pair of old fashioned wooden sandals, and he wore no adornments other than a leather sheath, in which he carried his father's magical katana. He was silent, as were his surroundings, and the only audible sound was the light 'crunch-crunch' his footsteps made in the newfallen snow. He pressed on diligently, although he had little idea of where he was going. He had a specific destination in mind, though the path to that destination was unclear.  
  
He was incredibly wary of his surroundings. He knew that Aku's mechanical army could have spies here, and he was on the watch for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Presently, he stopped, for before him lay something that was most definetly out of the ordinary. Hundreds of shattered machines that, judging by the design, were once a squad of Aku's machine creatures lay rusting in the snow. He moved forward, slowly. He sensed something was here, something powerful...  
  
"Stop right there, mofo, or I fillet you like a mackerel."   
  
He gasped. Standing about halfway into the mechanical graveyard was the form of a young woman, clad in black leather and wielding what appeared to be a sword made out of harsh, green light. She glared at him, and spat.  
  
"Goddamnit. I'm sick of this crap. Why don't you just turn yourself around and tell Aku that if he wants to get rid of me so bad, he can do the damn job himself."  
  
He had to smile slightly at her spirit, although he was a bit taken aback. Where he came from, women never used such harsh language. Nevertheless, he clasped his hands in front of him and bowed graciously. "Pardon my intrusion, I did not know this was your land. But let me assure you, I have nothing to do with Aku's tyranny. On the contrary, miss, I mean to destroy him."  
  
She stepped closer. He was surprised. She was smallish, with a set, stubborn jawline and the most brilliant grey eyes he'd ever seen. The only visible blemish on her pretty face was a long, thin scar that streaked across her cheek. Her long, black hair was tied back with a strip of leather, and she still clenched the light sword in her hand tightly. She had a strong spirit, he observed, but was this the girl who had defeated the wrecked machines that surrounded her?  
  
"Hmm." She looked him over, as if sizing him up, then smiled and nodded. "Nah. You're right, you're not with Aku. Not his style to send a guy as well mannered as you to kick my ass. Besides..." She smiled at him. "You look like you're made of better stuff than that. You got this... I dunno, this aura of kindness about you or something." She shook her head. "Eh, forgetaboutit." She extended her hand. "Sorry for the rough greeting, but you can never be too careful when the lord and master of the whole world wants your head on a platter. My name's Jill Cutter. What's yours?"  
  
He took her hand and shook it gently. "They call me Jack." He cocked his head to the side inquisitively. "Tell me, why is Aku after you?"  
  
Jill grinned mysteriously and scanned Jack with her eyes again. "Hm. You look kind of tired, not to mention hungry. Why don't you follow me? I'll explain on the way."   
  
Jack smiled slightly. He WAS kind of hungry, and a rest would be quite nice. He nodded, and followed the girl through the scrapyard.  
  
"The reason Aku-baby is after my precious ass," Jill began, stepping over what looked like a large, rusting beetle shell, "Is that I happen to be the leader of the Human League. We're a resistance group, and I'd like to think we're a damn good one. Aku's sent his little toy armies after us at least once a week for who knows how long, and every time it's the same thing... they say we're to be exterminated for high treason, I say 'bring it on, bitches', and our little junk heap gets bigger." She spat. "Ol' Akkie would just LOVE to make an example of me. Obviously, it hasn't worked yet." She looked up at Jack, her gunmetal eyes questioning. "So, man, what the hell are YOU doing here, eh? You look like you're not from around these parts."  
  
"It is a long story. Perhaps I'll tell you later. But to make it short, I am trying to return home so I may face Aku myself." He followed Jill up a small hill. When they reached the top, they had a nice view of the sunset and the scrapyard below- but there was no sign of any habitation whatsoever. Which is why it surprised Jack greatly when Jill clicked her tounge and said "Well, Jacky boy, here we are!"  
  
Jack blinked. "We are?" He couldn't see anything at all that looked like a place one person could live, much less a group of people.  
  
Jill laughed. "Rule Number One- Always look below the surface." Casting a glance around to make sure Jack and herself were the only people around, Jill tapped her fist against a nearby tree, which to Jack's amazement made a hollow, metallic noise. A panel of the bark slid aside, revealing a small console. A tinny, computeristic voice issued forth. "Password?" Jill spoke clearly. "Aku Is A Peckerhead." "Password confirmed. Welcome, Jill Cutter." With a slight grinding sound, the tree slid aside, revealing a hole in the ground with a ladder leading down. "We all have our own passwords." Jill explained, heading down the ladder. "If someone says the wrong password, a volley of missles launch from the tree at point-blank range. Rather messy."  
  
Jack grimaced at the thought, and climbed down the ladder after Jill. Jill called up after him. "Shut Up." At her words, the tree slid back over the hole, sending the tunnel into darkness momentarily, but then several lights in the tunnel walls clicked on, and the two continued down.  



End file.
